


Talons' Clutch

by SeanThePawn



Series: Her Choice [2]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Action, Amnesia, Brainwashing, F/M, Fanfiction, Gen, Implied Relationships, Kidnapping, Memory Alteration, Memory Loss, Multiple Endings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-14
Updated: 2016-11-14
Packaged: 2018-08-30 22:52:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,991
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8552596
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SeanThePawn/pseuds/SeanThePawn
Summary: Hana is awake, but a bigger problem arises: She's lost her memory, and a certain terrorist organization stops at nothing to take advantage of that.---Split into two parts, with an alternate ending.





	1. Chapter 1

“Yo, doctor!” Lúcio shouted from halfway across the corridor as he raced to catch up with Mercy, “Dr. Z!”

“What is it, Lúcio?” Mercy answered, mildly annoyed, “I’m very busy.”

“It’s D.Va…” He said whilst trying to catch his breath.

The mentioning of the name caught Mercy’s attention, anything else she was just in the middle of doing was no longer relevant. “What about her?” She asked, partially expecting an answer she didn’t want to hear.

The smile on Lúcio’s face made her reconsider, “She’s awake.”

 

Seeing that the door was still open, likely from Lúcio rushing out without thinking of closing it, Mercy was assured that he was not joking. The young woman was sitting upright on the small bed, her light brown eyes open and aware of the people entering the room. It appeared that she had just been looking out the window which framed a beautiful view of the sunset hitting the Alboran sea.

The both of them almost immediately noticed something strange with her. She didn’t at all seem happy or excited to see either of them, even though she’s known them for almost a third of a year. Instead she looked confused and somewhat scared.

The moment Hana asked who the two strangers in the room were, it seemed all sense of optimism had vanished.

“D.Va it’s me,” The DJ answered, keeping a smile, “it’s Lúcio, your friend!”

“Lúcio?” Hana repeated, her eyes narrowed “I-I’m sorry, but I can’t seem to remember…”

This was one of the many possibilities that Mercy feared would happen, “Please tell us, Hana. How much do you remember?”

Hana visibly struggled to recall something about herself, or anything really, “I know my name is Hana, but that’s pretty much it…” She answered, much to the doctor’s dismay, “but you called me a ‘diva’.” She said, looking at Lúcio.

Lúcio couldn’t believe what was happening, the celebrity that he once looked up to and had the privilege to meet and befriend couldn’t even remember the alias that millions of people around the world got to know her by. But at least she could recite the name that her parents gave her. “Not ‘diva’,” Lúcio replied, trying to remain positive, “‘D.Va’, it’s your celebrity name!”

“I’m... a celebrity...?” Hana asked.

“Yeah!” Lúcio lit up, “You were a professional gamer, but then you became a mech pilot when your home was terrorized by the Omnics.”

“My home...?” Her voice began to slur as her heart rate noticeably increased at the receiving of such information and unrecognizable fragments of her memory all began to hit her at once. Her head suddenly felt like it was going to explode and she began breathing rapidly.

Realizing the distress Hana was experiencing, Mercy ordered a deeply confused and concerned Lúcio to go and find Ana while she attempted to calm her down. She tried getting her to lay still but it was almost impossible with her erratic and violent movements. The monitor beside the bed was beeping rapidly, the sound rivaled with Hana’s cries. Ziegler was mainly worried that the poor girl would accidentally remove one of the IVs that were keeping her from going into shock.

“I’m here.” Mercy heard Ana say as she finally arrived to her aid. Without hesitation, she injected a needle containing a sedative dosage into one of the tubes penetrating Hana’s forearm. The effect of the drug didn’t take long as Hana quickly slipped back into unconsciousness, her vitals stabilizing. It seemed just one moment she was wide awake from a two-month coma, and then the next she was back under.

“She just needs a few hours to rest.” Ana said calmly, as if she were used to this sort of thing happening.

Lúcio felt a personal responsibility for what had happened, if he had just given her more time to process everything around her… “I’m so sorry,” He said with a tremble in his voice, “I should have just kept my mouth shut…”

“We just need to be patient with her, Lúcio,” Mercy consoled, “in given time, her memory should return piece by piece. Then she’ll be back to her old self.”

“You really think so?” Lúcio asked, still feeling like a pile of trash.

A part of Mercy desperately wanted to give him the harsh truth that she really had no idea. If Hana were to be without her memory forever then there was nothing that Ziegler could do, even with all the medical breakthroughs she had accomplished in the past. She could repair one’s body, but not their mind.

“I’m sure of it.” Mercy lied, hoping that would’ve been enough to give Lúcio a little bit of hope. But she would regret those words as she saw a trusting smile return to the DJ’s face.

-

“How long do you figure?” Jack asked the familiar question as he and Mercy watched Hana through the one-way window. It had been an hour and a half since she awoke from the sedation, during that time she was just laying quietly in her own bed-ridden prison, staring at the ceiling fan and occasionally sipping a spoonful of the soup Ana brought for her, her first meal in a while that had not been fed through a tube.

“You asked me that question before and I will tell you the same answer as before…” Mercy remarked.

“You brought people back from the dead-” Jack reminded her.

“I brought people back from the _verge_ of death,” Mercy calmly retaliated, “there is a difference, you know.”

“-and you can’t give an approximation of when she will remember anything about herself?” Jack continued, despite Mercy’s protest.

Mercy sighed deeply. Why was Jack making this argument now of all times? “I’m not a miracle worker, Jack. You want my prognosis? I’ll give her, say, two months at the very least.”

Jack didn’t seem very satisfied with that answer. He made that clear with a loud groan.

“What do you want me to tell you, Jack? When you can throw her back out on the field?”

“She’s a soldier, Dr. Ziegler…” Jack admitted, “like the rest of us.”

Mercy wouldn’t have believed a word Jack was saying if they hadn’t had a similar argument a decade ago, but why here? Why now? “She’s a _child_ , Jack. You should have stopped her from coming with us on that mission. _I_ should have stopped her.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything when she first joined?”

Mercy had nothing to say to that. Partially because she was tired and didn’t feel like having this petty discussion, and also because Jack was right. Overwatch was formed for what reason? To stop the first Omnic Crisis. Why did it fall? The people demanded it once they found out that the organization weren’t the heroes they believed they were. With the world plunging into chaos once again, Mercy felt the revitalization of Overwatch would only do more harm than good. D.Va was only be the beginning.

-

“Lúcio… Me, I think… Tracey…? No, that’s not right…” Hana said to herself, holding the framed collage of photographs she discovered on her bedside table. Her consistent headache was keeping her from sleep so she spent an hour trying to remember the names of the unfamiliar faces in the pictures.

Lúcio she knew for sure, because he was there when she awoke and had been visiting at every opportunity he could. The way he talked and acted around her, it gave her the impression that they used to be a thing. But Hana didn’t want to assume, at least not yet.

Herself she only recognized from her reflection when Ana was showing how her wounds were healing. But why did she have pink markings on her cheeks? They looked ridiculous.

It has been two days since she woke up, and despite the daily exercises she had been going through with Mercy she had not made any progress on regaining any of her lost memories. Yet, she was making stellar performance of being able to stand and walk without much help, so at the very least she could make bathroom trips all by herself, thank god. That stuff that they’ve been pumping through the IVs had to have been good for something, though while it did help with rejuvenating her body it didn't do much in terms of repairing her mind.

Frustrated with herself and the unrecognizable world she was in, Hana threw the picture frame on her lap and sank her head back into the pillow. _How long must I be like this?_ She asked herself and whatever other force may have been listening. Was she religious? She didn’t know. She knew she had friends here, but did she have any family? A mother? Father? Any brothers or sisters? If so, where were they? If they were here, they’d surely have visited her by then. And what about this ‘celebrity’ nonsense? What exactly was she famous for? How famous was she, and how many people are looking forward to hearing from their biggest star again?

Too many questions with zero answers. She didn’t want to risk another panic attack so she tried forcing herself to go to sleep. She turned her head and her eyes finally met the tall silhouette in the corner of the room.

Before she could scream or even ask for the intruder’s identity, she felt a tight invisible force keeping her from moving or making any sort of noise.

“Don’t worry... just a little something to keep you from alerting the others.” Said a sinister, almost mechanical-sounding voice. As if he were speaking through a fan. The darkness of the room hid the face of Hana’s visitor.

 _The IV_ , she realized, _he injected something into my IV..._

The dark shape took a step forward, revealing a pale skull-shaped mask that concealed his face. Hana knew she recognized that veil from somewhere, but _where_? “When I release this button, the nanobots will let go of your senses.”

Hana looked down at her assailant’s hand and saw the remote switch. The small red light shone against the white sheets of the bed and blackness of the man’s coat.

“When I press down I can lock you in place again, and with a double-click...” The man in black paused, making sure Hana was paying attention to every single word, “...well, let’s just hope Ziegler still knows her old tricks if it ever comes to that. Just as long as you remain quiet... got it?”

Hana was terrified. She didn’t know who this intruder was and why she would want to hurt her. Hana was defenceless, all she could do was his bidding. The second the man released his finger off the switch, she was able to move again. Hana wanted to scream, she wanted to call for help, but what if she did?

“Well, we’re off to a good start... tell me Hana, do you know who I am?”

Hana didn’t even bother with lying, she somehow knew if she did he would know. She shook her head.

A quick answer. Very good. This was going to be much easier than Reaper had already anticipated. “I’m the one who’s going to bring you home.”

-

Her back was killing her. Combined with the nausea weakening her senses, it was a struggle for Hana to even sit up. Her eyes stung at the sight of an endless whiteness surrounding her. When she finally mustered the strength to stand, she searched for any clue as to where she was. A wall, a door, a window, a light, _anything._ But there was nothing. Nothing at all. Even her own shadow failed to meet her eyes.

“Hello?” She called out, her voice echoing across the vast emptiness, “Ana? Mercy? Lúcio? Anyone!”

 _Am I dead?_ She immediately thought, like any sane person in this scenario would. The last thing she remembered was that man with the skull mask, and him saying something about ‘bringing her home.’

 _Home._ As soon as she thought of the word, two silhouettes in the far distance caught the corner of her eye. Finally, _something_ to interact with!

With no other choice in the matter, she began making her way toward the two figures. Despite a lack of fatigue, it seemed like she had been jogging for miles before she could make out more of their features. A man and a woman, middle-aged. They both had their backs toward Hana, but she could see that he had short black hair and the woman’s was long and auburn. She had no recognition of these two individuals, but she felt as if she had known them her whole life.

Hana reached her arm out to the pair in front of her and before she could say a word the white void malformed into a black abyss. A low, mechanical ‘purring’ vibrated Hana’s eardrums as a red light shone behind her. A cold breeze crawled against her backside as she reluctantly turned toward the source of the glow.

What was this familiar sense of terror she was experiencing? A sharp chill ran down her spine as she looked up at the light, the machine’s ‘purring’ transitioning into a menacing growl as her vision was painted red.

 

She awoke with a start, her body dampened in a cold sweat. Hana went to sit up but the restraints on her forehead and chest prevented her from doing so. This time she was greeted with darkness and an uncomfortable claustrophobic feeling. She was in some sort of cylinder pod, and the white room she was in was likely some sort of simulated dream.

“Her brainwaves are through the roof,” she heard a faint male voice coming from the exterior of her chamber “she’s woken up.”

“That’s fine,” replied a female’s, her accent was rather distinct, “the poor girl could use some fresh air. It must get awfully stuffy in there.”

A blinding light met Hana’s eyes as her capsule opened, a blast of cool air filled her lungs. She wanted to shield herself from the piercing brightness but her arms were also bound. All she could do was wait for her pupils to contract until they met the yellow irises of the tall blue-skinned woman looking down at her.

“ _Bonjour_ , little girl.”

\---

Jack stared at the vacant bed, his mind filled with anger and confusion. Mostly the latter. He came as soon as he heard the news of D.Va’s disappearance. No one had seen her leave and Athena could not find any trace of her vitals or heat signatures within the facility.

Looking for answers, he decided to go through the security footage with Winston. They examined the timeframe from when the blackout occurred between exactly 02:37 and when the power returned at 03:00 in the morning. It appeared as if in one frame Hana was laying in her bed with the photographs tossed on her lap, then in the next she was gone. Vanished without a trace.

“She couldn't have just got up and walked out on her own,” Jack stated the obvious, “someone had to have taken her.”

“There are no signs of a security breach, and without any video evidence it’s hard to know for sure.” Said Winston. This wasn’t the first time the Watchpoint had been trespassed, and since then he had made sure to install additional measures to ensure that such an event would never take place again. Whoever was able to cause that system-wide blackout knew what they were doing.

Athena’s voice came up on the intercom in Winston’s office, “I did have limited access to the security systems, but I was still able to initiate the backup monitoring protocol.”

Winston had completely forgotten about that feature. Honestly he never thought they would have need of it until then. Though it appeared Athena was only able to activate it in a single camera as only one holo-vid appeared in front of them, a barely-ten-second loop littered with visual noise from the black-out, but it was all they needed to confirm their suspicions:

Reaper, his legs showing no form other than a black shroud flowing behind him like a cape, gliding through the corridors of the medbay with an unconscious Hana tossed over his shoulders. The very sight of this infuriated Jack.

“Reyes... dammit! Why didn’t you do anything to stop him?” Jack barked at the sentient computer.

“Believe me, Jack, I wanted to do everything in my power to seize him...” Athena explained, “but I had detected traces of a foreign microscopic substance in Hana’s circulatory and nervous systems. I fear that if I had intervened, Reaper would most certainly have killed her.”

“Nanobots...” Jack realized, putting the two and two together. Blackwatch used them for their interrogations, so it made sense that Reyes would've kept a sample of such technology from when he led the branch. But Jack thought all traces of the group, along with their heinous means of torture, had been wiped out with the rest of Overwatch’s Swiss headquarters ten years ago. When he and Reyes had their “final” conflict.

But if Athena’s suggestions were true, then they could use the bots to their advantage. Pinpoint exactly where Hana’s being held, or at the very least make sure that she’s still alive. Though in order to do that they would require a sample of what Reyes had injected her with, and if there was one thing Jack remembered about him, it was that he always made sure to leave no evidence behind.

Winston let out a loud rumbling sigh, “So, chances are Talon has their hands on D.Va...” He laid back in his chair with utter defeat in his face, “There’s no telling what they could be doing to her.”

Jack came up with a theory that his primeape companion would definitely not want to hear, “They saw what she’s capable of back in King’s Row... An ace mech pilot with no memory, may as well be a blank canvas.”

“On which they could paint any picture they wanted of her.” Winston finished, an unfathomable dread filled his stomach.

\---

It didn’t get much better for Hana. When she wasn’t enduring in her closet-sized cell comprised with nothing but a mattress and a bucket, she was regularly thrown in to what she came to know as “the White Room.”

The “dreams” were meant to restore her lost memories, or at least that's what the people in lab coats claimed, but something in her gut told her that wasn't just the case. Perhaps it was the lack of empathy they displayed and the fact that they were treating her more like a test subject than a patient. At least her meals were half-decent, if she cooperated as expected.

She played along, only because she had very little choice in the matter. She knew that at the double-click of a button they could end her life as soon as she would attempt to fight back. She was completely at their mercy, and she hated herself for admitting that.

As part of the daily routine, they put her into the pod, strapped on the restraints - _Really?_ She thought - and as soon as the the lid was closed she was surrounded yet again by an endless vanity, which would soon materialize a simulated time and place. Continuing from where she last left off like a video game, starring herself as the player character.

Most of the “dreams” were from the first-person perspective, as in she got to re-experience a good chunk of her life. Every major event, from her first word to her first kill.

 

South Korea was devastated when the Omnic first attacked, many innocent lives were lost. Hana was only nine years old at the time. It wasn’t until the age of ten when she became familiar with the other kids in the orphanage.

But the menace didn’t stop there. Every other month it seemed, it would rise up from the ocean and destroy everything in its wake, like those old movies Hana used to watch with her parents. At age eleven, she moved into her fourth institution.

Eventually, the military developed a way to fight back. Mobile drones, equipped with machine-guns, rocket-propelled boosters and state-of-the-art defencive capabilities, all controlled via artificial intelligence to avoid any further casualties. The branch in control of these mechs came to be known as the Mobile Exo-force of the Korean Army (MEKA)

With their Defence Matrixes, the drones could dismantle any amount of projectiles that came within range. Any missile or pulse munition launched by the mechanical beast was rendered utterly useless.

The drones weren’t easily enough to completely eliminate the Omnic, but they did their job at keeping it at bay. For the following years Hana had the chance to live a relatively normal life.

Her only distraction, her one escape from the chaos that was her youth, was an old computer game called _Starcraft II_. Her dad owned a copy of it and she used to play against him on countless occasions. Not once has she ever beaten him and she would often get frustrated, to which he used to say “It’s only a game, Hana. No need to get angry.”

The game was the closest thing to a memoir she had of her family. Every day she played, from the minute she finished her studies to curfew. Every day she would attempt to reach her dad’s ranking, getting better and better along the way.

She played in her first tournament when she was fourteen. Nothing professional, just a small league ran by one of her schools. That’s when she started to get noticed. No one had ever seen anyone play like her before. She decimated her competition, never showing a sliver of mercy to her opponents.

She loved it. For the first time in her life, she felt like she had a purpose. It wasn’t a surprise when she accepted the offer to go pro, and in the following years she became the #1 ranked player in the world. Soon, everyone on the planet came to know the gamertag “D.Va.”

But no matter the adoration she received, nor the alarming number of followers she had gained in such a short amount of time, a part of her still wasn’t satisfied. She wanted revenge. She wanted to personally destroy the monster that had taken her family away from her, and it wasn’t until she was eighteen when she got her opportunity.

The Omnic had begun to adapt to her country’s defences. Somehow, it managed to hack into the AI that controlled the drones, shutting them all down simultaneously. Overnight, the drones were nothing but heaps of metal and carbon fiber, and Hana’s hometown was to face catastrophe yet again.

Desperate for a solution, MEKA turned to the country’s professional gamers to pilot the drones. Of course, D.Va was among the top candidates for the job.

After just half a year of vigorous training, Hana got to experience the comfort of a mech for the first time. The drones were completely reconfigured to meet the standards of their new pilots, and with the addition of the twin joysticks to the dashboard, D.Va truly felt like she was playing a first-person shooter, with an ultra-realistic-definition monitor right before her eyes.

The Fusion Cannons bursted with every squeeze of the triggers and the walking tank maneuvered in whichever direction she tilted the sticks. When she was in the cocoon-like pod of her mech, she couldn’t have felt more alive.

By some insane logic, the military believed that their professional gamers would possess the reaction abilities to match that of the AI that used to control their drones. When D.Va went on her first field mission, they weren’t just proven right... their expectations were far beyond met.

Much like her enemies in the tournaments, or the countless baddies in the video games she played, she mercilessly slaughtered the lesser Omnic units that were ransacking a small village. If they had lacked the programming to feal fear, D.Va made sure to give them a first taste.

The tin cans attempted to fight back, but their efforts fell short as D.Va’s gamer reflexes kicked in with her Defense Matrix. With every press of her controls’ buttons, not a single bullet from the Omnics’ mounted machineguns managed to scratch the surface of her mech.

Then it was her turn to attack.

Her mech’s cannons tore the machines to shreds at close range. In less than a second their circuits were laid out upon the snow. When one of them dared to fire at her, she would immediately retaliate with a boosted charge, slamming it against the closest wall, it’s insides exploding from within by the impact.

As she laid waste to the metallic cannon fodder before her, she felt something that she had never felt before... a stimulation that not even becoming the best Starcraft player in the world could ever match.

The sight of these machines, that had caused so much pain and suffering to innocent civilians, reduced to mere piles of scrap by her hands, made her _quiver_ with delight.

 

Outside the simulation pod, the people in lab coats were satisfied with the results they had found after weeks of searching.

“We found it,” One of them said to the blue-skinned woman observing them, “we found the key point.”

“ _Magnifique_ ,” She replied with a cold smirk, “ensure she remembers that sensation, make her _crave_ it.”

-

Weeks went by like vehicles in rush hour traffic. To Hana, they felt like months. Every day they would go through that same scene in the simulation, over and over again. After each session the men in white would ask her how it felt to slaughter those Omnics, and her responses were always the same: “It felt good.”

When they asked her how she felt about the Omnics, she’d say “They deserved to die for what they’ve done. Every single one of them.”

Then they asked her if she would do it again: “In a heartbeat.”

Hana didn’t care what happened to them. To her, they were nothing but walking buckets of bolts. Targets to be eliminated. Enemies to defeat. And most of all, she held them responsible for her parents’ deaths. Not just the one that rose from the sea. To her, they were all the same. And she wouldn’t rest until she destroyed them all.

Fortunately for her, she was given the tools she needed. A new bodysuit for starters, dark blue in color with an extra black layer covering her upper-torso, shoulders, forearms, and legs starting from her outer-thighs. A similar design to that of the suit MEKA fitted her with, but given the “Talon touch.”

An automatic pistol, complete with a holster that she strapped to her right thigh for easy access. Test firing proved it to be a handy sidearm, capable of a high fire rate with precise accuracy and minimal recoil.

But the main event that Hana was looking forward to, was her new mech. Based on what Talon had managed to recover in King’s Row, they had not just succeeded in replicating the design and the technology, but they were able to develop a weapon that could easily surpass any of those flying mini-vans MEKA could muster up by tenfold.

The armor was dyed black with a red-tinted bullet-proof window for the cockpit. Additional antennae-like appendages were added to the hull and wings, likely for a more intimidating portrayal. The “feet” of the mech were fitted with claws - or talons if you will - for extra traction on any type of terrain, or for gripping on to enemies. The Pulse Cannons were also upgraded to fire more condensed shots with far less recoil, making precised long-ranged onslaughts for achievable.

And for the cherry on top, a third weapon was equipped to the bottom-front of the mech: a high-powered laser cannon capable of firing concentrated microwaves that can cut through any surface like silk.

Hana couldn’t wait to get behind the controls of her new toy. As she finally got to feel the cool metal of the cocoon against her body for the first time what felt like an eternity, she felt a sharp object poking between her backbones.

The sensation quickly went from a mild yet shocking pain, to absolute lividness. She suddenly felt the instinct to kill everything within her sights. If the engineers hadn’t decommissioned the mech’s mobility and weapon controls beforehand, she would have surely destroyed the entire loading bay within seconds.

“Have patience, little girl...” The blue woman teased as she walked right up to the feral pilot’s face, her skin was getting pale and veins were popping on both sides of her forehead. “Just a little something to make sure you do your job effectively and correctly.”

Hana wanted, no, _needed_ to tear this woman to shreds, but the straps that bound her arms to the controls stole any opportunity of doing so from her.

“You idiots might want to tone down on the chems a bit, I fear this girl’s going to tear her own arms off.” The woman said to the scientists and engineers behind her, before turning back to Hana, “Listen to me, you stupid girl... we are not the ones you want to kill.”

Using the device on their wrist, the lead scientist lowered the dosage of the chemicals flowing through the tube connected to Hana’s spine and she became visibly more calm, but she maintained a stern face. She tried to look intimidating, but the blue woman just found it cute.

“Remember the machines that killed your family? _They_ are the ones that deserve to die... understand?”

Hana remembered the Omnic that laid waste to her country, she thought about all the Human lives that were lost during it’s regular onslaughts. She had to avenge them. She needed to.

“Understood.” She said.

The blue-skinned woman smiled with delight. After several months of agonizing anticipation, it was time for Hana’s first test run:

Numbani, Africa.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This turned out to be MUCH longer than I had anticipated, so I had to split it into two parts with two endings (mainly because I couldn't decide on which one to go with.)


	2. Chapter 2

Unity Day.

A celebration of peace and harmony between Humans and Omnics, where man and machine come together for festivities including music, dancing, and feast. The city-state of Numbani was one of the only few communities in the world to fully embrace such an occasion.

Tragedy was the last thing anyone would expect to come on that day. It ended as soon as it began, but those affected by the attack would have to live with the fear and anguish for the rest of their lives.

Reports told of a black streak flying across the sky, like a fighter jet but much smaller, and far deadlier. At first they thought it was a rogue Omnic gone terribly haywire, unloading seemingly-endless pulse clips upon civilians and guards alike as it flew over the crowded streets and leapt from building to building like a cricket in the grass.

Guards and law enforcement bots tried desperately to shoot down the threat, but to no avail. Their bullets either hit nothing or were dismantled completely, missiles were shot clean out of the sky. In mere seconds, the sounds of cheering and joy of downtown Numbani were replaced with those of a warzone: screaming, crying, explosions, and gunfire.

As the machine made it’s way to ground level, after it was done toying with it’s prey, the officers had realized that it wasn’t an Omnic, but a weapon controlled from within. Someone was _piloting_ this thing.

 

Jack couldn’t believe what he had just heard from the shaken officer. He _didn’t_ want it to be true. “Did you happen to see the pilot’s face? What they looked like?”

The guard shook his head. Tears flooded his eyes and ran down his cheeks, dropping onto the pavement he sat on. A young man, looked to be fresh out of training, or perhaps he was just a volunteer. No one could have expected a disaster like this to occur on such a positive day, so why would they need to have fully-trained guards?

It had been several hours since the attack. Overwatch came as soon as the news broke out, but they were too late. The mech was long-gone and dozens of casualties had already been reported. But all of the death-tolls so far consisted of Omnics, no Human collateral damage aside from minor injuries. This was made visible as Jack gazed upon the damaged streets, the dissonance of crying and wailing filled his ears. Most of the mourners were Human, collapsed over the corpses of their Omnic friends and family.

“Which direction did the mech take off?” He asked, trying to take his mind off the scene he had hoped to never witness again.

“N-northbound, I think...” The officer answered, “It flew away just after one of the riflemen managed to injure the pilot.”

Jack turned back toward him, as if he had just said the words he’s been listening for. “How were they injured?”

“Anti-tank rifle, shot clean through the glass while they were distracted. The machine staggered, but whoever was behind the controls seemed to have survived.”

_Well, I damn hope so._ Jack thought. Not what he was expecting, but this was the kind of break that he’d been waiting for, “Where did this happen?”

 

Fortunately, the area had been cleared to allow investigators to examine the scene. The detectives rose an eyebrow when Jack had told them his affiliation, but they allowed him in anyway. After today’s events, the sight of an Overwatch agent trespassing a crime scene wasn’t even near the top of everyone’s suspicion list. Besides, it was break time.

His eyes glued to the pavement, Jack searched every inch of the spot where the pilot was supposedly injured. He found fragments of red glass, definitely belonged to a bullet-proof windshield. Jack seemed to have massively underestimated the firepower the Numbani law enforcement unit possessed. He just hoped that D.Va - if that _was_ her - didn’t get hurt too badly.

Among the shards, he finally discovered the key to solving that mystery. Bloodstains, painted to the dark concrete like skid marks. Judging by the spread of the splatter, that rifleman must have hit something important. And Jack didn’t like the thought of that.

A swab was more than what he needed. He placed the red-colored q-tip in the small zip-bag he borrowed from the investigators and made his way to the rendezvous point.

\---

Hana winced as the alcohol was poured on her wound, as if the bullet plowing straight through her left arm wasn’t painful enough. The cold liquid trailing down her bicep didn’t mix well with the intense burning sensation she was feeling just below her shoulder. Still, it didn't hold a candle to how much it hurt when they cauterized the wound.

“Don’t be such a baby...” Said the blue-skinned woman in a calm yet annoyed tone.

Hana took out the piece of cloth she was biting on and protested, “The bastard _shot_ me!”

“That tends to happen when you fire upon a crowd of civilians,” The woman retaliated, “unless you’re careful, like I am.” She tossed the blood-stained cloth into the nearby trash bin.

Hana had nothing to say in response to that. Partially due to her concentrating on controlling the stinging pain in her arm.

As the blue woman patched up her arm, Hana reflected on the Omnics she had just finished slaying. These ones felt... different than the ones she remembered killing all that time ago. Just like the Humans they were standing aside, they displayed fear. They _didn’t_ want to die, but she killed them anyways. She wanted to. She _had_ to. But the moment that bullet pierced her skin, she couldn’t help but feel like she _deserved_ to get shot.

Whatever. They were dealt with. Less buckets of bolts in the world, and that’s all that mattered... right?

“ _Voila._ ” The woman exclaimed as she was done wrapping the gauze around Hana’s arm. The bandage felt tight around her muscle, but that was probably the point.

“You know, it never actually occurred to me what I should call you.” Hana pointed out, while testing out the flexibility of her repaired shoulder, “Y’know, other than ‘Madame.’”

The woman glared at Hana, her piercing yellow eyes appeared to be _glowing_ in the ever-so-slight shade of the room. There was silence between them for a few moments, then the woman smirked, “Widowmaker.”

_Widowmaker_ , Hana thought to herself, _when can I get a cool nickname like hers?_

“Now go get yourself ready,” Widowmaker commanded, no point in bonding with this girl anymore, “we have another big assignment for you.”

-

Siberia, home of the Omnium that served as the catalyst for the second Omnic Crisis. So far, it is the only factory that has been reactivated since the first war, and the Russian military has since been trying to make sure that it would be the last.

An automated robotics facility capable of mass-producing combat-ready Omnics by the hundreds? The perfect playground for Hana. But much to her bitter disappointment, she wasn’t there to destroy anything. This time it was her job to merely provide cover while Reaper and Widowmaker proceed to take control over the facility for Talon’s own interests. At least, that’s what the outraged Hana was told.

What she didn’t know was that they weren’t really there to hijack the Omnium. That would be impossible, a suicide mission.

While their new tool made an impressive display in Numbani, the nanobots in her veins have started to detect signs of the old D.Va returning. As much as the micro machines tried to suppress her real memories and maintain the ones Talon had carefully crafted for her, there was some part of her true self that lingered. Something that even the men in white could never get rid of.

They knew that even coming within ten kilometers of the Siberian Omnium would be a death wish, which was why they planned to have Hana scout the area ahead of them before ‘making their way inside the base.’ Cruel, but this mission was a necessary sacrifice to maintain the organization’s integrity.

“30 minutes to drop-off,” Widowmaker claimed, “get ready for combat oper-”

The missile struck the electro-magnetic barrier surrounding the airship, but the sheer force of the blast was enough to set the Defense systems out of commission.

“What was that? An Omnic?” Reaper demanded an answer from Widowmaker, who was trying to maintain control of the ship.

“Perhaps you can try looking out a window and seeing for yourself!” She shouted back as she prepared for evasive maneuvers, one more hit like that and they would be out of the sky within minutes.

In a seemingly delayed timing, their radar indicated a bogey approaching them from behind. Any known Omnic type has yet to possess stealth drives, so it was without a doubt that they were facing another aircraft.

“Whatever it is, return fire!” Reaper commanded.

With the flicking of numerous switches on the dashboard, a holo-monitor appeared, showing whatever the rocket launchers are targeting. As Widowmaker zoomed in on the assailant, their identity became clearer.

“Well, well, well...” She snickered, “looks like they came to take back what was theirs.”

Reaper looked at the screen, half-amused to see the Overwatch logo on the front of the airship that was gaining on them. If they knew Hana was on board, it was no wonder why they weren’t firing any further. But of all the times to run into them, it had to be during _this_ mission. Perhaps this was Hana’s chance to prove her loyalty.

“Time to suit up.” He told her.

 

With the shielding of her mech, combined with the chemicals numbing her senses, Hana could barely feel the force of the wind as the hatch opened. Gripping the joysticks, she eagerly waited for her queue. She didn’t know who these people attacking them were, only that they were interfering with her mission and that they needed to be taught a lesson.

“We’re in range. You’re good to go!” She heard Reaper’s raspy voice in her earpiece. And with that, she boosted off the platform. Widowmaker had maneuvered the ship to make it so she would land right on top of the enemies’.

The talons of her mech gripped onto the stainless steel of the VTOL, the metallic _crunch_ ing was like music to her ears as she locked herself into place. From here, there was nothing the enemy could do to stop her from tearing their ship apart from the outside. She started by firing directly below her feet, not enough to cause permanent damage but surely that would send the message.

She felt the ship sway side to side just from the sheer additional weight of her mech. If she didn’t want to fall out of the sky with them, she needed to stop toying around and start making some actual progress.

Just as she was targeting one of the exhaust ports, her concentration was broken by a forceful push from behind. The strength of the shove almost made her lose balance, but even if she were to fall off she could have easily boosted back up.

Hana turned her mech and she met eyes with her attacker: a young man with dreadlocks, wearing a green muscle shirt and what looked to be mechanical roller blades. How he wasn’t falling off was beyond her.

“Yo, D.Va! We just finished repainting this thing!” The man quipped as he raised his stereo-shaped gun.

Her mech’s Defense Matrix can disintegrate pretty much any projectile, be it bullets, pulse munitions, missiles, plasma, bombs and so on... but one of the few things that it could not dismantle was soundwaves. So when her enemy pushed her away again, this time combined with the wind hitting against her, her mech lost it’s grip on the ship’s exterior and she went flying.

She struggled to find the horizon as her mech flipped and spun in all possible directions. If it weren’t for the chemicals suppressing her senses, she most definitely would have lost consciousness by now. Instead she calmly fiddled with her joysticks until she was able to tell up from down. She activated her boosters and was able to return where she left off as if nothing had happened.

The man who had dared pushed her off whistled in amazement, “That’s quite the new toy you got. A gift from Talon?”

Hana knew this guy was her enemy and that he must be eliminated, but there was something about the way he acted that was stopping her from unloading all of her mech’s arsenal upon him. Her index fingers hovered over the triggers, all she had to do was squeeze.

“C’mon, D.Va. I know that’s you in there.” The young man said, inching closer to her as he lowered his weapon.

He said that nickname again: ‘D.Va.’ Why was that name so peculiar? It was just a gamertag she used when she used to be a professional gamer.

“What are you doing, Hana?” Reaper shouted in her earpiece, “Quit stalling and take down that ship!”

Like a switch, Hana immediately converted her focus to the task at hand. Ignoring her adversary, she turned to the nearest exhaust vent and fired without hesitation.

The force of the explosion was powerful enough to knock both her and the man off the ship, which was presently on fire and falling out of the sky as Reaper demanded. The blast had also caused Hana to briefly black-out as she fell through the sky like a brick.

She regained awareness of her surroundings and situation, and for some reason she began to look for the other person caught in the blast. Was it to finish him off? Make sure he was still alive?

That’s when she noticed the warning prompt that she had never seen before: a red light indicating an unauthorized passenger on the hull. She didn’t know how he was doing it, but the cheeky bastard was _clinging_ on to her as they were falling thousands of feet from the sky.

Directly below, Hana saw nothing but white and grey, with small traces of green. That’s right, they were in the middle of the Siberian wilderness. In attempt to relieve as much damage from her mech as possible, Hana lightly pressed on the boosters as they got closer to the snow-covered ground, until she landed safely with nothing but a gentle stagger.

Now, to deal with her guest. It appeared he had already leapt off, for she saw him lowkey-hyperventilating as he tried to catch his breath.

“Hah... hoh, man... remind me... to _never_ do that... ever again...” He said between gasps as he turned to Hana, “You still streaming in that thing? Bet your fans got a real kick out of that!”

_Fans_ , the word punctured Hana’s mind like a bullet. She hadn’t thought about her followers since... since when?

Doesn’t matter, anymore. All that mattered was that the enemy ship was out of commission. They were not gonna interfere with their mission anymore. All she had to do now was finish this one guy off and return to her commanding officers.

But this man who tried to to stop her, what was he still doing here? Why was he saying those words, and why did they mean so much to Hana? It seemed with every sentence that came from his mouth, she was losing to some part of herself that was unrecognizable.

She knew this man, something told her that she was even _friends_ with him at some point. But she couldn’t even recall his name. She was about to ask who he was before an intense burning sensation erupted within her, traveling through her spine and up into her head.

“ _Ah, ah, ah_...” Widowmaker’s accent taunted in Hana’s eardrums, “What did we say about stalling? Finish him off, while we deal with the rest of them...” She commanded as raised the chemical dosage with the device on her wrist. Within seconds, Hana could feel no other sensation besides aggression.

With her new objective clear, Hana boosted towards her enemy at top speed. He dodged out of the way in the nick of time, his dreadlocks getting a small trim from the wings. As he slid across the snow, he made a troubling realization: this wasn’t a field they were on, it was a frozen lake, made evident by the subtle _crack_ ing he heard below his feet.

This gave him an idea, but he wasn’t sure if he liked it, “Sorry, D. You left me with no other choice.” He said as he skated toward her, just barely avoiding the rain of bullets as he closed the distance between them.

 

Widowmaker managed to find a clearing to land the ship, just so happened to be a few-hundred yards away from where Overwatch’s VTOL crash landed. Surprisingly, it didn’t explode, at least not yet, which meant the crew members were likely still alive.

“Hopefully this won’t end up like that time in the museum...” Widowmaker remarked as she readied her rifle, “I’ll go find a vantage point, good luck with your hunt.”

And off she went, hopping from tree to tree with her grappling hook. Neither of them knew how many enemies they were facing, but knowing Jack’s over-confidence, Reaper had a feeling that it wouldn’t be much. With his Hellfire Shotguns in-hand, he went off into the woods, the snow crunching with every step of his metal boots.

After trudging through a myriad of knee-deep frost and bush, Reaper had come across the wreckage that was once Overwatch’s airship. Behind it laid a valley of destroyed trees, flattened brushes, and a trail of disturbed soil that must have gone for miles. As he examined the grounded ship, he half-expected to find corpses of his long-forgotten allies laid upon the snow. That would have made his job a hell of a lot easier. But he knew these people were far from ordinary, and even further from easily killable.

As he turned the corner he found what he was looking for: not just one, but two sets of footprints, heading towards a different part of the woods. Among the trail, he spotted drops of blood. One, or both of them, were injured in the crash. Excellent. Evaporating into a black cloud, he followed the footprints.

 

The frigid wind was nothing to Widowmaker. In order to make her into the emotionless assassin that she is now, Talon altered her physiology and made her heart beat much slower. She was used to the cold.

She climbed the tallest tree she could find, which also gave her a good view of the smoke tower coming from the crashed airship. And in the corner of her eye, she spied two dots tangoing on a large frozen lake. A glance in her scope confirmed that it was the brat fighting one of Overwatch’s other lapdogs. What was his name again? Lúcio. Right. They sure seemed to have a thing for recruiting big-name celebrities.

Zooming in on her targets, she waited for the DJ to stop hopping around so she could get a clear shot. It no longer mattered if she stole Hana of her kill, because as far as Widowmaker was concerned she failed, and this was her punishment.

Finally, the mech had Lúcio pinned to the ground. The foot pressing down on his shoulder, making escape impossible. The perfect shot, now all she had to do was pull the trigger.

“Y’know, we really gotta stop meeting like this.” An irritating cockney accent stung her right ear.

_Please. Anything but this again..._ Widowmaker pleaded in her mind as she went to silence the annoyance once and for all.

Widow swung her rifle around, hitting nothing but air as the orange blur blinked to the adjacent tree, “I mean, really. It’s starting to get old!” Tracer quipped as she aimed her dual pistols at the sniper.

_Jump_ , Widowmaker’s first instinct was. While doing so, she fired her grapple hook to the tallest branch, twirling around the evergreen as she descended. On her way down, she can see the cursed sprinter chasing after her, leaping from branch to branch and shooting her pistols whilst doing so. Splinters of bark erupted just inches from Widowmaker’s face as the pulse munitions hit the trunk of the tree.

_Two can play at this game_ , Widowmaker thought as she fired her rifle’s assault mode. The rhythmic pounding of the two gunners’ firearms echoed across the forest, their duet bounced off the nearby trees. Small wildlife, such as birds and squirrels, scrambled away to safety as the two women unloaded round upon round in each other's general direction.

 

“Come on, D.Va! Don’t you recognize me?” Lúcio shouted, trying to get some sort of sense into her as the foot of her mech pressed harder on his shoulder. He could feel the ice giving away beneath him. Just one more press and the both of them will be submerged.

Through the tinted red glass, he can barely make out the face who was once his best friend, made into another one of Talon’s killing machines. He saw what she did in Numbani, but he knew that it wasn’t really her. The D.Va he knew would never inflict such pain and sorrow on others, and he hoped that her beloved fans knew the same thing.

In a last effort to free himself, he fired another soundwave at the mech. The force pushed the mech upwards, giving Lúcio just enough space to get back on his feet.

Irritated, Hana decided to use the one weapon she never got the chance to try yet.

Lúcio heard the low-tone humming coming from the mech, then that’s when he noticed the orange glow shining beneath the cockpit. Realizing what the light was telegraphing, he sprinted away just as the laser beam melted the spot where he was standing a mere second ago.

Skating around Hana as the bright-white line of certain death gained closer to him, he finally put his plan to motion. Waiting for the laser to die out, he leapt high into the air with his amplifier in hand, and casted the strongest soundwave he has ever produced directly onto the icy-floor.

The shock wave caused the ice below Hana’s mech to start giving way under it’s weight. Hana yelped as her mech fell into the frigid water, her cockpit flooding as is slowly began to sink.

_C’mon, eject!_ Lúcio wanted to shout.

With all of her systems were malfunctioning, she had no choice but to do so. With a tug of the lever above her head, the hatch blasted open and she flew backwards into the lake.

With the chemicals no longer nullifying her senses, she felt like she was being impaled by a thousand needles the millisecond she made contact with the water. The pilot struggled to stay afloat, she desperately gasped for air but water entered her lungs instead. Amidst the cold of the lake, she felt something tug on her arm.

“Don’t worry, I got you!” She heard Lúcio say as he grasped onto her wrist.

A bright light suddenly caught the upper part of his sight, he looked up to see the mech was _glowing_. A bright-green orb that only meant one thing as far as he knew.

Without thinking, he yanked Hana out of the water and held tightly on to her as he dove away from the self-destructing mech.

 

Tracer felt something cold and small hit her abdomen. The force of the bullet, mixed with the sharp pain that came with it, caused her to lose balance. Clutching to her gut, she fell forward but managed to grab onto a large branch that held her weight. The sight of her blood-soaked glove didn’t prove to be a good sign.

“Gotcha, now.” Widowmaker remarked to the young Brit as she transformed her rifle to sniper mode, aiming down her sights for the finishing touch.

But with a confident smirk, Tracer vanished again. Widow immediately recognized this, she pulled the same cursed trick back in King’s Row. She rewound her own time to the point before her injury took place, as if it never happened.

“Not this time, you _pest_!” Widowmaker shouted as she aimed her venom mine, quickly calculating the trajectory relevant to the amount of time ago she was hit. She released the spider-shaped vial, and right where Tracer reappeared back at peak condition, it clung to her chest and released the poisonous mist right on contact.

Tracer violently gasped and coughed as the toxins filled her lungs, falling and bouncing off branches like a ragdoll until she slammed against the forest floor in a broken and poisoned heap. Widowmaker wasn’t far behind, making graceful use of her grappling hook.

Her rifle still in sniper mode, she slowly made her way toward the defeated Tracer. The sounds of her hacking, coughing and sobbing was like a sonnet to Widowmaker’s ears. With a kick, she forced her enemy on her back so she could see the final look on her face as her life is finally cut short.

“Amélie... p-please...” Tracer pleaded between sobs. The tears welling in her eyes almost made Widowmaker feel sorry for the poor girl... _almost_.

“Give Mondatta my regards.” Widowmaker said as she held the barrel of her rifle against Tracer’s forehead.

Tracer clenched her eyes shut, preparing for the bullet to penetrate her skull.

 

_Boom._

 

Darkness. That’s all she saw. The sound of the gunshot echoed in her mind... but it sounded much louder than it usually did, perhaps because it was shot at point blank.

She felt a strong gust of wind hit against her right side. She opened her eyes, Widowmaker was still standing above her, but she was looking somewhere else.

Tracer turned to the direction Widow was facing, then the shock wave came. The force of the explosion sent the both of them flying through the trees.

Widowmaker’s arm struck a branch, knocking her rifle out of her hand. But that would soon be the least of her worries as they made it out of the forest and found themselves on a cliffside.

Even while poisoned, Tracer managed to grab on to the edge of the god-knows-how-high drop. Just as she was about to pull herself up to solid ground, something wrapped tightly around her calf and began to pull her back down.

She was barely surprised to see Widowmaker hanging by her grappling hook with a grip on Tracer’s leg. Tracer tried to pull herself up to save both herself and Widow from certain death, but her grip on the edge loosened by the second with the additional weight.

When she heard her chronic accelerator boot back up, she gave her adversary one final, remorseful glance.

Widowmaker’s yellow eyes went from expressionless spite to genuine fear the moment she realized what Oxton was planning. She payed little to no attention to the sound of Reaper’s voice asking for her status.

“Forgive me, Amélie.” Tracer said as she recalled once again, leaving the grappling hook nothing left to grab onto as she vanished.

Like a spider without its web, the woman once known as Amélie Lacroix fell, disappearing into the clouded abyss below without making a sound.

With a thud, Tracer reappeared on solid ground. The venom was still in her system, but she could manage it for the time being. Without turning back to the cliff, she found Widowmaker’s rifle and blinked up the sturdiest and most vertical tree she could find.

 

The blast that came from Hana’s mech self-destructing was powerful enough to level a few square miles of forest. Lúcio didn’t know what they packed into that thing, but it definitely caused a bigger explosion than any of D.Va’s other machines were able to muster.

Every part of his body ached to the point of making any sort of movement a challenge, especially his backside which took a good chunk of the force. It took him a while to get up off top of Hana, who was being worryingly quiet and still.

“D... come on, get up...” He said between groans, to no response.

Her eyes remained closed, and a gentle shake didn’t help with getting her to open them.

“C’mon, quit messing around.” He continued, a deep concern starting to fill his voice.

He hesitantly began to lower his head until he pressed his ear against her wet and cold chest. He was able to hear a steady heartbeat, so at least she was-

_Click._

Lúcio just managed to avoid taking a bullet to the head, but not without feeling a sharp sting on his left ear, followed by the sensation of a warm liquid dripping down the side of his head.

_Ringing_. All he could hear on his left side was a high-pitched ringing. When he looked at his blood-soaked fingers after feeling his ear, his dread had been realized.

He felt something else hit him on the side of the head. The fact that he wasn’t dead ensured that it wasn’t a bullet.

Hana had returned to her feet quicker than any human being should after barely escaping an explosion, and threw herself at Lúcio like a wild animal.

With the constant ringing and unbearable pain inflicting the left side of his head, it has hard for Lúcio to concentrate on where Hana’s fists and kicks will strike.

One of the many things they used to joke about was how easily Hana could kick Lúcio’s ass if she wanted to, and he sure as hell didn’t disagree with that. Hana went through legitimate military training while Lúcio, as fit as he was, has never punched another person in his life. He knew how to fight with words and music, while D.Va had the brute force tactic down pat.

With almost no effort at all, Hana knocked Lúcio to the cold and slushy forest floor with a straight kick to the chest. Before he could even try to get back up, she put herself on top of him, pinning him to the ground while raising one arm and grasping the collar of his shirt with the other.

“D.Va, sto-!”

The weight of her fist hitting his deaf side was enough to make him see stars. She tugged on his collar to bring him closer for another one.

Pain. The taste of metal filled the inside of his mouth as he spat out a mixture of blood and saliva. The entire left side of his face felt inflamed. He could already feel his lip swelling.

Again. This time on his right, his ‘good’ side. At least now his wounds would be symmetrical.

Over and over, Hana laid one out on Lúcio. To the point where he could barely maintain his consciousness.

Battered, bloodied and bruised, Lúcio stared up into the trees. Some hidden part of his mind wondered how he got into this situation, and how both his and D.Va’s fans would react if he ever told him. He could already picture the forum posts:

_Lúcio got his ass kicked by a girl! LOL!_

_Lucky guy. What do I have to do to get beaten up by D.Va?_

He let out a half-chuckle half-sob as Hana stood off of him, finally allowing him to breathe.

Dizzy and broken, Lúcio could barely muster the strength to sit up. But the moment he saw the gun being pointed at him, he sobered up and went to sprint away.

His futile effort at escape fell short as the bullets struck his arms and legs. It felt like getting hit by a thousand hockey pucks at once.

He fell to his knees, blood oozing from every bullet hole on his limbs and painting the snow beneath him bright red.

With his one remaining good ear, he heard Hana’s footsteps approaching closer and closer. Until finally, he saw her shadow looming over the top of his view.

He looked up and his eyes met the steel chamber of her pistol.

 

“Widowmaker, status report.” Reaper called into his voice comm, with no answer received. The explosion he heard definitely did not sound like it was part of the plan. “Widowmaker, do you copy?” Still no response.

He let out a frustrated groan. Fine, he could do this alone if he had to. All he had to do was track down two more targets, and it wasn’t long at all until he spotted his prey:

A man, clinging to a woman as she was helping him walk. He immediately recognized the two silhouettes as Jack and Ziegler. The one who left him to die, and the one who denied him his own death.

Splitting his misty form into two, he surrounded the two agents before materializing in front of them. The both of them looked shocked to see him.

“What were you expecting to happen?” Reaper mocked the both of them, eyeing the oozing red spot on Morrison’s jacket, “That we would just hand over the girl without a fight?”

“I don’t know what you’ve done to her, Reyes...” Jack began, backing Mercy away as he struggled to lift his pulse rifle, “but I don’t approve of-”

Before Jack could finish his sentence, Reaper unloaded a shotgun shell directly into his wound. Blood and tissue erupted from his side as the force of the blast knocked him on his rear. Mercy immediately went to his aid, where Reaper held his other gun to her temple.

“Hana is property of Talon, now.” He told them, “Whatever we do with, or _to_ her, is none of your concern.”

“Reaper...” He heard the French accent in his earpiece, her voice was raspy and frail as if she had just suffered a critical injury, “the brat... she blew up her mech... she’s of no use to us now.”

Reaper figured that was the case, but a part of him, deep within, didn’t want it to be true. He knew what he had to do. He silently acknowledged Widowmaker’s words as he turned over to Mercy. The Swiss medic shivered in fear, but she was prepared to atone for what she had done to the man holding her at gunpoint.

“Now you’ll get to see how this feels, doc.” Reaper said as he pressed his finger on the trigger.

Before he could squeeze the tiny lever completely, something punctured the outer part of his hand, forcing him to drop his weapons as he clutched his palms together.

From a faraway treetop, Tracer eyed into the scope of Widowmaker's rifle, smoke escaping the tip of the barrel. Her surgical accuracy surprised even herself.

Without wasting the opportunity, Jack raised his pulse rifle and fired Helix Rockets directly into Reaper’s face, exploding at near point-blank range before he could even react.

The cloaked terrorist let out an inhuman-sounding roar as he toppled onto the snow, his mask shattered into fragments and scattered amongst the ground. In one mere second, the tables have been turned in Jack’s favor.

With the help of Mercy’s healing stream, Jack made it back to his feet and approached Reyes. His face to the ground, his cloaked frame shaking as he struggled to get back up.

“Looks like I won, this time...” Jack concluded as he pointed his rifle at the back of Gabriel’s head.

Reyes’ groans and coughs begun to transition into subtle and mocking fits of laughter. With his mask no longer distorting his voice, Jack could much easily recognize the voice of who was once his second-in-command, his former ally, his lost best friend. Among Reyes’ chuckling, Jack heard two-mechanical clicks and saw something drop out of his hand. His stomach sank when he realized what that had meant.

Before fading away into black particles, Gabriel turned ever so slightly towards Jack, to the point where he could just barely make out features of the man we once was.

“She’s all yours...” Gabriel said as he disappeared for the final time, the black shroud of his being blowing away with the cold wind.

His arms shaking, Jack picked up the device Reaper dropped. A small hand-held remote, shaped like a detonator. Disturbingly fitting for what it’s purpose was. With the device in-hand, he and Ziegler made their way toward the source of the explosion.

 

Lúcio knelt on the cold ground. The armor of his legs soaked from the snow and the blood that dripped from his arms. He held his head low, waiting to be executed by the woman he once knew.

Nothing.

_What is she waiting for?_ He thought, _Just stop torturing me and get it over with!_

Curiosity taking over his mind, he slowly lifted his head up and saw that D.Va still had him at gunpoint. But something was wrong. She no longer looked expressionless, neither did she look angry. For the first time in months, he saw the look of fear and confusion in her eyes.

Hana dropped her gun as she began to collapse. She folded her arms as her legs gave way, forcing her to Lúcio’s level.

“Hana, what’s wrong?” Lúcio asked as he grabbed hold of D.Va, stopping her from hitting the forest floor.

She gave no answer. She shook uncontrollably as her breathing became desperate gasps for oxygen. Her heartbeat slowed. Her senses numbed by the second, much more so than the chemicals ever could.

As she felt her consciousness fading away, her true memories began to flood back into her mind like images flashing on a screen.

She remembered her home, her parents. They were still alive after all. It has been awhile since she last chatted with them on the holo-vid. They must miss her deeply, just as she misses them.

She remembered her fans, and how she managed to become a global icon at the age of sixteen, just by playing a computer game.

She remembered the day she got that letter in the mail from MEKA requesting for her service. Her country had been getting regularly attacked by a colossal Omnic since before she was born, and she knew she possessed the necessary skills to defend it so she proudly accepted.

She remembered joining Overwatch. After stopping the Omnic threat, she decided to put her piloting skills to more use, protecting not just her homeland but the entire world.

She remembered seeing Winston for the first time and how he reminded her of an old video game character.

She remembered being so thrilled when she got to meet one of her favorite artists in the flesh... the one who was holding her in that moment.

She knows him. She likes him. She loves his music. She felt like it was a privilege to get to befriend one her biggest idols. She remembered feeling humbled to know that he was a fan of hers in turn.

“L... Lú... cio...” She whispered as she weakly raised her hand to touch his cheek. She felt his hand grasp on to hers as her eyelids grew heavy.

Lúcio felt the grip of D.Va’s hand loosen, until it fell out of his blood-covered grasp and onto her stomach, deflating as a long decaying sigh abandoned her lips. Her head slumped back upon his elbow. Limp. Lifeless.

“No. Nononono, please!” He pleaded as he cradled his friend, bringing her head closer to his, desperate to feel her breath upon his cheek. Nothing. “Please don’t do this to me, Hana...”

He whispered her name over and over, in some lost hope that she could still hear him and that she would answer. Then reality struck him, and he bursted.

D.Va was gone. Hana Song was gone. And with her, a part of Lúcio’s heart that could never be replaced.

She will never listen to his music again.

She will never get to hear the track he made for her.

They will never spend their off-time playing video games together again.

She will never laugh at his dumb jokes again, as he will never laugh at hers.

He will never see her smile again - when was the last time he’s even seen her smile?

“No... please, no...” He held onto her tightly, as if it would change anything. He was numb. All sense of happiness and optimism left has been stripped away from every fiber of his being. He almost didn't notice Tracer’s shadow entering his point of view

Oxton’s legs gave in the moment she walked in on the scene, half-due to her body still fighting off the venom, but that was the very least of her concerns.

Half-dragging her feet on the snow-covered dirt, she crawled over to Lúcio’s side. She knew there was nothing she could do to bring Hana back. She _wished_ she could do something. She loathed the fact that she _couldn’t_ do something.

Jack and Mercy approached from behind. Lena turned in the direction of their footsteps, where she met Angela’s fearful eyes.

Without expressing a single word, Dr. Ziegler remorsefully lowered her head.

Jack, removing the visor from his face, weary and expressionless, walked over to the grieving DJ.

“She's gone...” Lúcio said between shaken breaths, his arms still wrapped around Hana. 

Jack didn't say a word. He didn't need to. He didn't _want_ to. Surprisingly even to him, he wasn't at all saddened by all this. Not even angry nor vengeful towards the ones ultimately responsible for Hana’s death. By this point, he was just tired. Sick and tired.

An eerie silence filled the air, the only sound breaking it being the wind brushing against the pines, and Lúcio’s trembling voice.

 

“She's gone...”

 

**

 

Mercy eyed the remote still in Jack’s hand, the cursed device that was used to cut Hana’s life short. She reflected on what Jack told her about the nanobots, and what he said about what she's supposedly done in the past, then hatched an idea she never thought she'd have to do ever again.

“Stand back.” She suddenly demanded and everyone turned to her, confused.

“Angela...” Jack started, knowing exactly what she was thinking of doing and just how futile it was.

“You wanted this, didn’t you Jack?” She interrupted.

Jack paused to remember what she was referring to, then it clicked, “Yeah, but you said-”

“Then at least let me try.” She interrupted again, to which Jack had nothing more to say.

Lúcio, wide-eyed, looked back at Mercy as she placed her hand on his shoulder. After she give him a reassuring nod, Lúcio gently laid D.Va flat on the ground and got back to his feet with Jack’s help.

Taking a deep breath, Dr. Ziegler activated her healing stream and expanded the ‘wings’ on the back of her suit. Just the mere sight of their golden aura provided a comforting warmth, and just after a few moments the others felt their wounds and afflictions fade away.

With one-knee bent, Mercy hovered her hand above D.Va’s body, slowly waving it side-to-side as if she was performing some sort of ritual.

Jack visibly cringed at the sight of this show she was pulling. _What’s the point of this?_ He thought, _She’s just wasting our time._

 

Then color began to return to Hana. Her skin blushed, her lips went from pale to pink. Until finally, a loud gasp as her eyes flung open.

With the exception of Mercy, everyone leapt in shock, which instantly turned to excitement and disbelief.

“Oh my god, D.Va!” Lúcio tearfully exclaimed as he rushed to her side, his anguish fully replaced with utter amazement and an immeasurable relief.

“Lúcio?” D.Va asked, her eyes narrowing at the sight of his half-bloodied face, “What the hell happened to your ear?”

Lúcio laughed much harder than he should have at D.Va’s concern. For a moment he thought she had lost her memory again, but the fact she remembered his name right away ensured him that the Hana Song he knew was finally back.

“No need to worry about me,” He said as he embraced her, “I’m just so glad you’re alive!”

D.Va was visibly confused at everything that was going on. It seemed just a second ago, she was in King’s Row, flying in her mech and carrying some huge bomb that was about to explode...

And then she was laying in the snow in the middle of a forest, surrounded by Tracer, Mercy and old man Morrison while getting her ribs squeezed together and her shoulder soaked by an over-emotional Lúcio.

“What’s gotten into you?” She replied with a slight giggle as she wrapped one arm around him in return, “You’re acting like I just died or something.”

“Oh, boy... then do I have news for you.” Tracer cautiously said as she wiped her eyes.

Jack turned to an exhausted Mercy, leaving the other three to their little reunion. “I thought you said you _weren’t_ a miracle worker...”

“Not always.” Mercy replied with a smirk.

Jack couldn’t help but chuckle a little bit. She’s really outdone herself this time, but the big question remained: “How?”

Ziegler looked at him as if he should have already known the answer, “The bots. They were latching on to her internal systems like a parasite, and when Gabriel deactivated them her body shut down with them. So... I simply reactivated them. Though any minute further and she would have been beyond help.”

Jack stared at her trivially. “Well in that case, perhaps we should all get injected with those things and bring you along for every mission from now on.”

Ziegler scoffed at his remark, “Yeah right. Don’t expect me to pull a trick like this again anytime soon.”

“Well, I don’t plan on dying anytime soon...” He looked over at D.Va, laughing and smiling for the first time in what seemed like decades. If he hadn’t known what he was fighting for, then he had finally realized what it was during that moment.

He hated to spoil the scene, but they were stranded in the middle of Siberia without a ship after all. Rallying his squad together, they made their way towards the nearest sign of civilization.

-

D.Va woke up to the knocking on her door. _Christ_ _, what time is it?_ She thought to herself as she fished around for her phone. 12:10 PM. She slept in again, as what being laid-off work for two weeks usually does to a person.

After slipping on her fuzzy bunny pajama pants and the first top she could find she answered the door, half-expecting to meet a grumpy McCree scolding her for sleeping past noon again. She was relieved to see Lúcio’s welcoming face instead.

“Oh, were you sleeping?” He asked.

“Hm? Oh, yeah, I was, but... I guess not anymore.” She replied between yawns.

“Ah, shoot! Sorry about that! I’ll come back later, I guess.”

“No, no, it’s fine.” She insisted, “I need to get back to a regular sleep schedule, anyways.”

Lúcio acknowledged. Judging by the bags under her eyes, he wholeheartedly agreed with her.

“What’s up?” D.Va asked, leaning against her doorframe with her arms crossed.

“Just... checking to see how you were doing.” He shrugged.

D.Va raised an eyebrow, she began to see a little bit of where this was going, “I’m alright... I guess.”

“You guess?” Lúcio repeated, his concerned tone becoming a lot more evident, “I mean, you’ve barely left your room ever since you’ve been back.”

Finally, Hana let out a deep sigh as her eyes lowered the floor, “I don’t know. A lot’s just been on my mind.”

“Understandable. I mean, it’s not an everyday occurrence that someone comes back from the dead.”

She shook her head, “It’s not that,” she explained as she went and sat down on the edge of her bed, her tone became considerably melancholy, “I saw what I did in Numbani. All those innocent lives lost, because of me.”

Lúcio felt the ball drop. He knew this was going to to be an issue, but he didn’t want to explicitly bring it up in front of her. Thinking of something to say in consolance, he sat down next to her, “You know that wasn’t the real you. We all know it was Talon controlling you.”

“But do _they_ know?” She spouted, her voice starting to shake, “The millions of people who look up to me? What were they thinking when they saw their idol slaughtering those Omnics?”

He noticed her eyes getting redder, it was a first for him to see her like this. And it was understandable, watching a tragedy unfold through news videos and seeing herself behind it all with absolutely no recollection of taking any part in it. To her, it must have been impossible to believe and fully comprehend. It will be a burden that will stick with her for the rest of her life.

Lúcio knew there was little he could do or say that will relieve her of her guilt and help find her inner peace, but he had to at least give it a shot.

He pulled out his phone and searched up mentionings of her Twitter page, which she hasn’t updated since before the King’s Row mission three and half months ago. As he scrolled through the results, he couldn’t help but shed a smile.

“See this?” He said, showing her the holo-projected screen of his cellphone, “There are people who still love you, people who miss you.”

Hana dragged her finger up the screen, and just after reading a handful of tweets her turmoil began to disappear, replaced with tearful delight.

 

“ _@HanaSongOfficial_ When r u coming back? :'( Miss hearing ur voice! <3”

 

“Any news on _@HanaSongOfficial_? I really hope she’s okay! _#PrayersForDva_ ”

 

“ _@HanaSongOfficial_ can’t be dead! She’s too young! Pls tell me it isn’t true!  </3”

 

Just to name a few. Similar tweets like these have been getting posted ever since the King’s Row incident.

Overwhelmed with emotions, mostly positive, D.Va handed Lúcio back his phone, but not without wrapping her arms around him. “Thank you for showing me this. I needed that.”

Lúcio felt the warmth of her tears trickling on his bare shoulder. _Good job, Lúc, you made her cry_ ,He humored himself.

“No problem. Anything for a friend.” He replied, rubbing her back.

D.Va wanted to say something in response to that, but much to her own discontent she stopped herself. _He’ll figure it out... eventually._

“So… how’s your ear?” She asked, breaking away from Lúcio as she rubbed her eyes. Desperate attempt to change the subject.

“What?” Lúcio replied.

“I said-” D.Va stopped, realizing what she just walked into as she planted her fist on his arm, “Oh, very funny!”

Lúcio chuckled as his own wit, “Getting better. Dr. Z says I just need to keep this bandage on for a little longer before she can do her magic... Though, lemme tell ya, composing tracks with only one working ear? Not a fun time.”

Hana eyed the gauze and wrappings that covered his left ear. Every time she would ask about it he would say that he wounded it on one of his missions while she was away, but she couldn’t help but feel responsible for his injury. She wasn't dumb, she saw what it looked like back in Siberia.

She knows music is his life and soul, so losing one ear must have been like losing half of his being, but he stayed his old positive self. His undying optimism was one of the biggest reasons why she looked up to him. The chance of getting to meet and befriend one her biggest role-models is a fact she’ll never be able to comprehend.

“Oh! That reminds me!” Lúcio said as he turned his phone back on and went into his music storage. “Here’s something that’s guaranteed to make you feel better.” He said as he connected his device to D.Va’s bluetooth speakers and pressed play.

The song started, beginning with a slow resonance that stimulated both of their eardrums, and transitioned to a slightly faster but soothing rhythm. A soulful piece comprising of echoing notes over top a relaxing synthetic beat, unlike anything Hana has ever heard before.

“I don’t think I’ve heard this one before.” She said as she lightly bobbed her head to the rhythm.

“That’s because I composed it while you were in a deep sleep,” Lúcio replied, whilst nervously rubbing the back of his head, “I... I made it for you.”

She turned to him, any focus she had on the track suddenly disappeared, “You did?”

“Y-yeah,” He answered, lowkey intimidated, “do you li-”

He was interrupted by a warm sensation upon his lips. Suddenly Hana’s face was up against his, tilted slightly to the side to keep her nose from colliding with his. A quick peck, but to the both of them, it lasted for hours.

Lúcio’s body tensed up like a deer in headlights. Not that he didn’t mind the fact he just got kissed by Hana-freaking-Song, he just needed a moment to process the fact and take it as a sign of appreciation.

“I love it.” D.Va answered, resting her head on his still-trembling shoulder as she continued to listen to the track. She knew she finally got the message through when she felt his arm wrap around her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ** Marks where the alternate ending begins, which can be viewed in the next chapter.  
> \---  
> There you have it, the sequel that no one has asked for! But honestly, I really hope you enjoyed it. I might do some more Overwatch fics in the future, but for now I really gotta focus on college and stuff.
> 
> Also, be sure to visit [my tumblr](http://sean-the-pawn.tumblr.com/) if you want to contact me directly!


	3. Alternate Ending

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As the title says, this is the alternate/sad ending of "Talons' Clutch"

D.Va always loved talking about Busan. Since she joined Overwatch, she would occasionally go on about how much she loved living there (besides the regular Omnic attacks.) and the things she missed the most: her family, her friends, her fellow MEKA pilots, her old Commanding Officers, the scenery, the food - good god, the food.

While Hana knew she had found a new home within Overwatch, there were times where she wished she could go back to her home country for a vacation... if only this visit was for a better reason.

Hana was born there. It seemed appropriate, and necessary, that she’d be buried there.

 

Two days after their arrival, and delivering Hana to where she belonged, they were allowed into the home in which she grew up. A humble place, located no less than ten clicks out of the city. It was the kind of house Jack never expected an international celebrity to hail from.

Despite her cult status, it was an understandably private proceeding. At least, this one was. The ceremony viewed by the populace featured an empty coffin, a mock-up arranged by Winston to ensure Hana got the undisturbed funeral she deserved. It was the least he could do.

Only family, close friends and a handful of squadmates, both from MEKA and Overwatch, were able to attend the real one. Of which included Jack, Angela, Lena and Lúcio, all dressed in black as gatherings like these usually permit.

Since Hana didn't have a child, her father had to arrange the funeral and serve as master of ceremonies. Usually a task meant for the eldest kin of the deceased, as is part of tradition, but unfortunately this was a different circumstance. Though one that is not uncommon in these times.

They walked into the house and saw the black curtain which hid her casket, in front was a table setup with candles, incense and a framed photo of Hana that looked to have been taken just before she left to join Overwatch. Where one-by-one, starting with immediate family, they all went up to pay their respects.

During the entire proceeding, Hana’s father, a tall broad-shouldered man with short grizzled black hair, had to sit quietly on a coarse mat next to the concealed casket as part of his cultural role and for punishment and atonement for letting his daughter die. A part of Jack felt it should have been himself kneeling there instead.

In a desperate attempt to take his mind off of everything, Lúcio wandered around the household - something he wasn’t even sure that he was allowed to do, but he needed to do _something_ to escape this fever dream. Upon his exploration he stumbled upon a room that only left a grave reminder of what he had lost.

Hana’s old bedroom. There was no doubt about it. Sky-blue colored walls, plastered with posters of numerous video games and artists, including himself. A double-sized bed with pink bunny-printed sheets. A small wooden desk that Lúcio assumed used to house her desktop and gaming systems. Two adjacent shelves displaying hundreds of video games, both old and new, arranged neatly in alphabetical order.

A huge part of him wanted to step away and forget what he saw, but the damage was already done. A cruel curiosity came over him, despite his wish to respect the privacy of his friend. On one of the shelves his eyes came upon a section dedicated solely to him. Every single one of his albums released up until the year of her departure, all in order of release date, including his limited-edition signed vinyls which he remembered were only available through his online store. They sold out in less than a day.

Among the albums he spotted several of his other merchandise: T-shirts advertising his concerts and tours, keychains, a mannequin's head wore a headset with his branded frog logo on the sides, and even an emptied box of Lúcio-Oh's. He knew that Hana was a fan of his, but he had no idea that she was _this_ dedicated to him.

 _She was obsessed with me_ , he thought to himself as he sat on the edge of her bed, his humble laughter quickly turning into uncontrollable sobs. For hours it felt, he laid there. Curled up on a dead girl’s old bed, weeping his eyes out while cursing the circumstances that had led him there.

Curse Talon for taking Hana away from him.

Curse himself to letting her get taken.

Curse Reaper for pressing the button that ended her life.

Curse Jack for letting him press that button.

Curse Ziegler for not being able to bring her back.

Curse his curiosity for stumbling upon this room.

Curse Hana for being such a big fan of his.

_Curse. This._

 

The burial took place early the following morning, on a large hill a short walk away from the residence. While the entire ceremony felt like a nightmare he couldn’t wake up from, this was the part Lúcio dreaded the most.

He watched as his best friend was lowered into the ground by her relatives, whom he had just met a few days prior. He tried to maintain his composure as the hole was filled with soil. In a desperate attempt to take his mind somewhere else, he looked at the dozens of graves that covered the slope.

Generations of Hana’s family and ancestors, all laid to rest in rows upon rows. That’s when he noticed the considerable gap between the last grave and Hana’s, a space big enough to hold two more resting places, one for both of her parents for when their times come.

Lúcio stayed behind after the final sayings had been conducted, staring at the stone plaque that marked Hana’s last home. The lettering engraved upon it read in her native tongue, but from what he remembered of the few Korean lessons she gave him, all he could recognize was:

 

_SONG HANA_

_2057 - 2076_

_Xxx xxxxxx Hana_

 

He couldn’t make the saying below the years, he only recognized the last symbol as her given name, which could have also been the number ‘one.’

Sitting cross-legged beside her gravestone, he plugged one bud into his remaining good ear and laid the other one upon the mound under which she slept. He dug his phone out his pocket and pressed ‘play’ on the one song by him Hana never got to listen to, until now.


End file.
